popular-priced salaries. In other words, we principcll people, and the kids in the corps dL bal1et, are subsidizing our own art. Persona11y, I spend about si'C months of the year out and about, on television and doing symphonic dates, concerts, and so forth, earning money, so that I can afford to work where I want to work-and that's here in New York, at the N ew York City Ballet, at the City Center. Artistically, it's the best place in the world for me to work. There's no place else where the music, the artIstic direction, or the c ho re 0 g ra ph y is better. \Vhere else in the world can you find a George Balan- chine c:lnd a J er0111e Robbins in tandem?" Kevin McCc:lrthy, another actor, caIne into the restau- rant and went out again. '}\\Wlg ( ^ tfrðl t:; 1 1 1 u i:::; . came ìG \, e went out again, too. Gail Ne]son and Bob Guil- laume sang "Bess, Y()U Is My ',V0111- an Now." The New York City Opera Children's Chorus sc:lng lnusic froll1 "Car111en." Leonard Harns, for1l1er arts critic of Channel 2, told the crowd that the City Center loses Inoney on every ticket it sel1s. "Please help 1 " 1 " d " Tl ' I " t 1em, 1e sal . 1ey can t Ive on love alone." Then Sandy Baron asked Edward VillelLl to dance a few steps to rock music. Edwctrd Ville11a laughed and refused. Sandy Baron coaxed him. The crowd applauded. Ed ward Villella laughed and danced. 40 thousand dolLtrs over a six-) ear period to match a grant from the Ford Foundation. ) As musicians played and comedians drew laughs, we repaired to an up- stairs room of La Scala, a restaurant on \Vest F'ifty-fourth Street, which was serving as an improvised greenroom for the perfor1l1ers There we joined Betty Comden and Adolph Green, who were seated at a table scribbling on two scraps of paper "\\1 e're writing a song that we've got to sing in five 111inutes," said Mr. Grcen, giving us an owlish look. He hummed a tune. Miss Cam- den Innnmed a tune. Each of them scribbled more words on the scraps of pa- per. Then the) tried out the song together, singing, "The City Center is our very " own. They secIncd satisfied with their song. Miss Comden said, "I think a lot of peo- ple ctre under the impression that these things are publicI) funded. They think that a thing called the City. Center-or a thing caned the Public Library-is city-endowed. They don't realize that both foundation funds 'lnd private funds are needed." i\. voice ove r a walkie-talkie said, "Com den and Green in three min- utes." C01l1den and Green gOt up and left. Before long, the actor Keir Dul1ea strolled by with Doug Henning, who is the star of "The MagIc Show," at the Cort Theatre, and they joined us. " 1 ' " 1 " " 1 " M m gOIng to eVltate a glr, r. Henning told us. "I put three swords with their points in the air, and then I hypnotize a girl and place her on the tips of the swords." "You know what's great about your show?" said Mr. Dul1ea to Mr. Henning. "It really works as a total show. It doesn't come across just as d . " an excuse to 0 some 111aglC. "I do a thing with rings, too," said Mr. Henning. "They're Chinese sil- Ver rings, and they 1ink and unlink." "I'm supposed to mLet my wife c:tnd kids in Macy's," said Mr. I)u11ea. "But I haven't done my thing yet." In a few minutes, both Mr. Dullea 'lnd Mr. Henning were cal1ed by walkie-talkie to go outside and do their things. Soon after that, we were joined by Ed ward Villella, the dancer. "The City Center is very proud of its popular- priced tickets," he told us. "But [ like to refer, Jokingly, to the fact that our popular-priced tickets are supported by ,. Genevieve and John O NE important question to consider when thinking.. about Genevieve \Vaite and John Phillips is "Well, what do they look like?" \Ve've thought about it, and it seems to us that John Phillips looks like a Harvard sec- tion man who is spending the summer in Provence. Genevieve is easier: she is plainly someone who has left her tour group and has no intentIon of going back \Vhat they do is this: John Phil- ]ips writes songs, Llnd Genevieve sings them; John Phillips plays the guitar while Genevieve sings his songs; and every once In a whIle John Phillips plays and sings his songs himself. John has been doing this for a while, having been Big Papa in the Mamas and the Papas. Genevieve is, as they say, a Fresh F'ace. They both belong to that perceptive group of almost young per- fonnels who c:lre drifting (subtly, they hope) a way from their moorings in OCTOßER. 2. 8, 1974- the sixties toward some modest re-crea- tion of café society. John and Gene- vieve were performing the other night at Reno Sweeney (itself a l110dest re- creation of café society), and we went to see them. V\T e have these things to report: (1) Genevieve Waite is very, very pretty. She really knows hO\\7 to wear little black satin pants. More important, she has, sensibly, decided to bring back the pout. Genevieve does a lot of talking about bringing hack romance (one of her songs is called "Romance Is on the RisL"), but We think her really important contribution will be to bring back the pout. (2) Genevieve Waite is very good at delivering snappy song introductions. She dedicated a song called "Trashy Rumors" to Wilbur Mills. GeneviE've \Vaite delivers lines in a manner remi- niscent of the manner of Viva, the popular Warhol superstar now not much in evidence. Genevieve Waite may be the marketable VIva. (3) There IS something odd about John's and Genevieve's sophistication. 'They have a whimsey that may have got too much sunlight while they were in CLlJifornia. One more thing on this subject: John does a song about Wern- her von Braun, and he shouldn't. "Ti1ne" Covers NR , O NE summer in the nineteen-fifties, the editorial staff of TimE' began to conect material for a synoptic cover storv about Americans on holiday. Re- porters Were sent fanning, and Boris Chaliapin, who had product:d more Time cover pictures than any other artist, was asked to create a work ex- pressing the theme. The resulting pic- ture was not used. It was consigned to darkness with the fatal term "NR" ("Not running"). Chaliapin had painted the Statue of Liherty on water skis. Her classic robes had been shed on Bedloe's Island and were draped there over her plInth. She now wore a bath- ing suit. Torch in hand, she scudded across the harbor. We remembered that paintIng ( who could ever forget it?), having seen it once, long ago, in Time's editorial of- fices, in Rockefeller Center. It had been thL star of a collection of analo- gous works, which had been com- missioned and completed but, for one reason or another, had never seen the light of print-a gallery's-worth of NR I'in-ze covers under dust In an ou t- size closet \Ve found ourself wonder- ing how the collection had evolved in recent years. So we called up Henry